


tell me your secrets tonight

by pirateygoodness



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Baking, Domestic Fluff, F/F, Holidays
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-11
Updated: 2017-12-11
Packaged: 2019-02-13 07:08:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12978750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pirateygoodness/pseuds/pirateygoodness
Summary: It's the food that rouses Zari somewhat, pulls her out of her thoughts. "I miss those ones - they were brown and a bit spicy, with the white icing? They always looked like people?""Gingerbread men?"Zari shrugs. "Or women. I always used to eat the heads off first." Off of Amaya's querying look, she says, "Well, that way it doesn't bother them if you eat the rest of their body. It always seemed really mean to eat them the other way."(or: Zari and Amaya don't celebrate Christmas but they do make eyes at each other over baking.)





	tell me your secrets tonight

**Author's Note:**

> Based off a holiday/winter fic prompt: _i’m making christmas cookies sTOP SNEAKING IN HERE TO EAT THE DOUGH OR I’LL SMACK YOU WITH A SPOON_
> 
> Title from Sia's "Sunshine"

They have dinner, everyone as a family - except Martin, of course. Everyone hugs Jefferson at least once - most of them twice or more - and Sara has the job of taking him back to his home in 2017. 

The conversations about Christmas start the next morning. Holidays are complicated while moving through time - last year Raymond and Martin spent a whole afternoon calculating their relative distance from the Hebrew calendar so that they could accurately observe their holidays. It's Christmas Day in Vinland but sometime in mid-December in 2017 and Nate and Leonard are engaged in a lively debate over when it's appropriate to exchange gifts in celebration of Christmas. 

Amaya and Zari eat breakfast in relative quiet beside them, not saying much. Amaya didn't grow up with Christmas, herself. She knows about it, after a few years of living in America, and it doesn't feel important the way it seems to for some members of the team but she doesn't mind the lights and the fun. 

As the boys' conversation continues, Zari starts to frown. She's fabricated waffles with blueberries and cream but she's hardly touched them, doesn't seem very interested in eating. 

Amaya waits until Nate and Leonard are finished and they've agreed to continue their conversation elsewhere, before she sidles up to Zari's seat. "Are you alright?" she asks, after a long silence.

Zari's still sort of staring into her waffles, unmoved. She's got both hands wrapped around her coffee cup and she's looking down it like it's got answers. "You don't have to - the team is really enthusiastic about Christmas," Amaya adds. "But that doesn't mean -" 

Zari shakes her head and forces a little smile. "I was born in 2012, not the dark ages." 

"Of course," Amaya says. She pulls a chair over to sit beside Zari, watches as her expression twists into something suddenly, impossibly sad. 

"We used to - there was always a celebration in school, a Christmas party before winter break." Zari looks up at the ceiling, her breathing a little shaky as her eyes go tear-bright. "Behrad got so mad about Santa Claus when we were little." 

Amaya rests her hand on Zari's shoulder. "I didn't know," she finally says. 

Zari shrugs, scrubbing at her cheek to brush away tears that Amaya pretends gamely not to notice. She's clearly done speaking, but she leans gently against Amaya's side in reply, a soft acknowledgement of her presence. There's nothing Amaya can do to fix this, whatever complicated mix of memory and emotion this is stirring in Zari. 

Instead, Amaya tells stories. She recalls the first Christmas she was invited to celebrate, back with her colleagues at the JSA. (She doesn't mention Rex but she thinks about him; about their little Christmas tree and the earrings he gave her and the way she felt overwhelmed but flattered - she hadn't known what to do and got him a new pair of socks and they laughed about it for weeks). She mentions the things that make her feel happy: the cookies, the lights. 

It's the food that rouses Zari somewhat, pulls her out of her thoughts. "I miss those ones - they were brown and a bit spicy, with the white icing? They always looked like people?"

"Gingerbread men?" 

Zari shrugs. "Or women. I always used to eat the heads off first." Off of Amaya's querying look, she says, "Well, that way it doesn't bother them if you eat the rest of their body. It always seemed really mean to eat them the other way."

Amaya laughs. She's so charmed, thinking of a little Zari with a cookie in hand, worried about eating it humanely. "We could make them. I think I have a recipe." 

Zari rolls her eyes. "We could just get Gideon to fabricate some." 

Amaya shakes her head. "It's more fun to make them, I promise." 

"That's exactly what people say when they're trying to talk me into doing something that's more work. I bet it builds character, too?" 

Zari's hand is resting on the table, and Amaya runs her thumb across her knuckles as gently as she can. "It might," she says softly. "But also, I'd really appreciate the company." 

Zari shifts in her seat. Her fingers shift under Amaya's touch and for a moment, Amaya thinks she might take Amaya's hand. Amaya breathes, tries to ignore the sudden fluttering that's settled in her belly at the mere thought. "But I get to eat some cookies at the end of this, right?" Zari turns to look at her, brighter-eyed and a bit more pink-cheeked than she was before. 

Amaya grins in reply. "Of course." 

Amaya has never really minded baking or cooking. She grew up learning the basics from her mother and aunts, but was fortunate enough to use her skills only for special occasions rather than the everyday work of feeding a family. It's always felt like a nice treat to be able to make things from scratch. The idea of cooking with Zari - who's now watching her with curiosity, as she starts to consult with Gideon about ingredients - puts her a little off-balance. 

Gideon helps Amaya gather everything together, fabricating the ingredients that aren't already on hand. Amaya starts with the butter and sugar, mixing them together until the texture is right. Zari leans over the opposite side of the counter, her nose practically in the bowl as she watches Amaya crack the eggs, then add the spices. They both smile a little as Amaya mixes everything in and the batter shifts from a golden yellow to a lovely deep brown. 

"It looks just like I remembered," Zari says. 

Amaya looks up, and for a moment their eyes meet and it's something more than baking, a hum of _something_ coursing between them and settling behind Amaya's ribs. She could swear her totem feels warm against her sternum, and a hand flies up to it instinctively, just to double-check. She's flustered as she starts to add the flour, rolling the dough into a disc and wrapping it in paper to set in the fridge. 

"So, is it cookies yet?" Zari teases, and when Amaya looks up she's grinning. 

"Good things come to those who wait," Amaya teases back. She's rewarded with Zari's cheeks flushing, her hair falling across her face in a curtain as she ducks her head.

 

They meet again kitchen about three hours later, when the dough is ready to be rolled out. Amaya arrives first, but she's only working on her own for a few minutes before Zari drifts into the kitchen. "How's the old-fashioned cooking going? Still fun?" she asks. 

She's leaning over the counter again, staring obviously at Amaya's arms as she rolls the dough to the correct thickness. Every so often - as the dough cracks at the edges, or when Zari thinks she can get away with it, she pinches off a piece and pops it into her mouth. The third time, Amaya catches her, swats at her instinctively. Her palm meets the back of Zari's hand with a soft slap and suddenly Amaya finds herself frowning, says, "Eating comes later." 

Zari freezes. There's something about her expression that doesn't quite fit - she's more surprised, more flustered than Amaya would expect. It takes a few more moments for Amaya's choice of words to sink in, embarrassment suddenly washing over her in a wave.

They've kissed once before; tucked close together on the sofa in Zari's room. Amaya still remembers the smell of her skin, the way her mouth was gentle and sweet. Remembers Zari's fierce blush and stuttered _thank you_ and the way she hadn't kissed Amaya any more but hadn't said anything about Amaya draped against her side while she went back to playing her game. Amaya hasn't pushed it since; hasn't thought about whether or not they're the kissing sort of friends until today.

Zari keeps looking at Amaya, watching her hands and the way she rolls out the dough, working it patiently to the right thickness. She waits until Amaya's embarrassment has settled, until she's turning away and reaching for the cookie cutters before she dives back in to pinch off another piece. " _Zari,_ " she says, unable to keep the exasperation from her voice. 

Zari blinks up at her, eyes wide. "But I'm so very sad, today. What if this cookie dough is the only bright spot in my dark day?"

Amaya softens for a moment - just long enough for Zari to slide her hand back across the counter. "Oh my god," Amaya says. 

Zari's hand stills, but she juts her chin out and gives Amaya this _look_ and all of Amaya's resolve and irritation melt away. She feels her heart flutter. It's moments like these, when Zari smiles at her just right and she feels down to her bones that this is it, that Zari's the other half of her soul somehow. Amaya feels herself smile, thinks for a brief moment about what it would be like to lean across the counter and press her mouth to Zari's - and there's already more cookie dough between Zari's fingertips. 

Amaya rolls her eyes. "If you're going to steal I'm going to put you to work to make up for it."

This seems to have been the invitation Zari was waiting for; her delinquency drops significantly once Amaya brings her to the other side of the counter and puts a rolling pin in her hands. She shows Zari how to roll out the dough, brings the cookie cutters over to their workstation. She has two shapes, a little figure with a dress and a little figure with no dress. She'd thought about decorating them after the fact, but at the rate Zari's stealing she's not sure the finished cookies will last long enough for that. "I don't even know why we're using the lady cookie cutter," Zari says. "I haven't worn a dress since I was ten, except on missions with you guys." 

Amaya chuckles, points to a pair of the cookies-in-dresses already on the baking sheet. "There's us in 1937, then." 

Zari chuckles, nudges Amaya's side. She points to one of the gingerbread people in trousers, says, "In that case, that one can be Sara." 

Amaya laughs at the idea, says conspiratorially, "It'd never be safe to eat her." 

They both blush, suddenly and fiercely; Zari at Amaya's poor choice of phrase and Amaya because she's had more than one dream about _that_ before. Zari turns back to her rolling pin and Amaya lets her, tongue tied. 

Now it's Amaya's turn to watch Zari's hands, as she squashes the scraps of dough back into a ball and rolls them out again. Unable to resist, Amaya reaches out and pinches a little corner away, pops it into her mouth. "Hey, I thought you said no stealing, I was going to -"

Zari stops once she gets a look at Amaya's face. Amaya can't stop grinning at her, more pleased with herself than she should be for turning the tables. "Come on," Amaya says, softly. 

She leans close, her mouth ready with a kiss that she intends for Zari's cheek, playful and friendly. But Zari turns to meet her in the middle and suddenly it's Zari's lips against hers. It's barely anything, soft and chaste but Amaya feels her breath catch in her throat. She feels a hum, beginning at her mouth and coursing along her skin, every inch of her body suddenly warm. When they come apart, they're both a little dazed. 

Amaya's the first to recover. "Now you know how it feels," she says, reaching across to pop another little morsel of cookie dough into her mouth. 

Zari's mind is someplace else, and it takes her a minute to come back to earth, to process Amaya's words. "Right," she murmurs. "Cookie theft." 

"Precisely," Amaya replies. 

They go back to baking, both a little warmer than before.


End file.
